Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Why don't you tell your DADDY to buy you more trains

Happy New Year. Hard to believe a year has come and gone since I was drinking mango batidas in Rio, but time flies when you're having fun/in law school.

Julia and I did it up this year in New York F***ing City for new years eve. It was pretty standard, really -- I tripped on my purse leaving the apartment before taking one sip of alcohol, so it wasn't entirely surprising that I ended up tripping down the stairs later in the night and bruising my shins and knees to the point where some guy in the subway took a look at me and said, "Hey. At least you're still walking." Cheers to that!

Our night was fun. We started off at an Irish pub owned by the family of one of Julia's friends from high school, and I met a bunch of her high school friends. We had some drinks there, then headed off to the Stanny party, thrown by a few guys that we have known since freshman year of college. I had a few cups of champagne there, and somehow got completely and utterly drunk, more drunk than I had intended, I think because during the day ate the following: half a bagel with cream cheese, two granola bars, and a six inch Subway turkey sub. Apparently those paltry bread products were not enough to absorb the alcohol that I consumed, because I was a total mess. But, hey, that's new years.

After the apartment party we went to to a club called Manor, which we had purchased $70 late admissions tickets for. The next morning, I opened my purse and found the tickets, which makes me wonder how exactly we got in, and whether we needed to spend that money to begin with. Hmmmm. The club was weird and sort of a big blur, so we left after an hour or so and wandered to the subway to take the L train back to Hoolia's apartamento.

So we're on the train and it's crowded, and my hand accidentally brushes against this girl's hand who was standing next to me. She was pale and blonde, with spiky hair and a nose ring. I didn't notice her until she smacked my hand away from hers. The conversation that followed went exactly like this:

Me: Oh, sorry, I wasn't trying to hold your hand.

Girl: *soul-melting glare of hate*

Julia: Yeah, we'll post a missed connection on Craigslist later.

Me: *laugh*

Julia: *laugh*

Girl: Yeah? Just try it. My girlfriend will kick your ass up and down the stairs.

Me: ... uhhh....

Julia: Ummm... these trains are so crowded. The city should really have them come more frequently.

Girl: Why don't you call your DADDY and have him fix it for you?

Me and Julia: What? What does that even mean?

Girl: Oh, you don't know? Well just call me when you figure it out.

Me and Julia: *awkward silence.*

After five minutes or so of the girl sending evil hate vibes our way, we went to get off the train, and as we were leaving, the girl yelled, "Why don't you have your SORORITY call my fraternity!" She said the word "sorority" like you'd say "Hitler Fan Club." But what's funny about that is that we are not in sororities, nor have we ever been, and even if we were, where the hell does this chick get off judging us? What a bitch. And also, how are our "daddies" supposed to fix the fact that there aren't enough L trains in New York at 2 am? Unless our daddies = the old guy from Monopoly with the monacle and money bags coming out of his pockets, I don't think that's very realistic.

We ranted about how ridiculous that girl was all the way back to Julia's apartment, and then for about an hour after that, until Julia actually did go on Craigslist ("rants and raves") to post something about how much that girl sucked, in the hopes that she'd see it. "I mean, what, just because she's some girl on a train to Brooklyn she can judge other white girls? She represents what's wrong with so many things," said Julia. It's true. That girl sucked and I hope she gets her ass kicked for real by someone else's girlfriend.

Anyway, other than THAT, fun new years! I hope all of you had a good one and that no one got their ass kicked up OR down the stairs.

No comments:

Post a Comment